


Ghosts of the Past

by Hijja



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-03
Updated: 2010-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-08 16:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hijja/pseuds/Hijja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am not thinking about the Dark Arts, Auror Potter." His voice dropped into a languid drawl. "I am thinking of pain and humiliation. I'm thinking of having the 'Boy who Lived' entirely at my mercy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts of the Past

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Son of Darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Son+of+Darkness).



**Rating:** R at most  
**Warnings:** dub-con, coercion

 

"Is it him?" Harry asked, staring at his wife's slack face, the red hair that spilled around her head like a fireflower. Prone on the stone slab with the Pendrane basin glowing green at her head, Ginny looked like the sacrificial victim to a Dark deity. Far too much for Harry's taste.

"Yes," Lucius Malfoy said. Sweat was beading on his forehead and the thin lines around his mouth had deepened. "Or what little is left of him."

He shook drops of green plasma off his hands, and watched them evaporate in the air.

"It has had a long time to take root and spread – general ill-will against the world that rejected him, and a quite personal hatred for you, Potter. You, he remembers."

Harry's stomach clenched. Ginny's mood and personality swings, sudden bursts of aggression, had increased in frequency ever since their marriage, leaving them both on edge around each other. Waking one night to find her curled up in a corner of their bedroom, crying and restraining her wand hand with the other to stop her wand from pointing at his head had sent them off to seek help at St Mungo's.

They couldn't tell the Healers what they both suspected, however. The Wizarding World wasn't as yet stable enough to handle the thought of a surviving soul fragment of Tom Riddle's, however small. Maybe it never would.

It had been Hermione who came up with the possibility of using a Pendrane, and Harry who recognised it from the inventory of the raid of Malfoy Manor he'd written up in his first month of Auror training four years ago: 'One 14th century Pendrane, limestone, commissioned by Asper de Malefoi (1365-1430), not classified Dark'.

Back then, he hadn't intended to approach Malfoy - it was only when he realised how rare those artefacts were that his mind kept wandering back. Not only rare, but also keyed to its owners for use. Convincing Ginny to turn to Malfoy for help had been harder even than convincing himself.

Now, Harry could just pray that it was worth it.

"Can you help her?" he asked.

Malfoy looked at Ginny, his face devoid of emotion.

"Perhaps," he said. "The Pendrane was invented to help wizards throw off mind-altering curses, but not quite this sort of... possession. There is no guarantee that it would succeed." He looked at Harry, eyes hooded. "The real question is – why would I _want_ to help her?"

Harry felt rage bubbling up in his chest. "It's your fault Ginny is like this," he snapped. "If you hadn't slipped her Riddle's diary-"

"I paid my debts to wizarding society with five years in Azkaban," Lucius cut him off. "I don't owe you anything."

"I can have your Pendrane requisitioned and taken to St Mungo's," Harry threatened.

"And who is going to use it?" Malfoy sneered.

"There's Draco..." Harry pointed out.

Lucius let out a wolf-bark of a laugh.

"My son has been a Death Eater under duress, for a year." He pushed back his sleeve to expose the scarred ruin of the Dark Mark. "I have met young Riddle. I've carried him under my skin for the better part of three decades. Neither my son nor any of St Mungo's Healers would even recognise what they are looking for. I do."

"Then what do you _want_?" Harry snarled.

Surely there had to be something - otherwise Malfoy would never have received them in the first place.

Lucius cocked his head and looked at him. "How about revenge?"

Harry's hands went cold. "I saved your wife and son from Azkaban," he ground out. "What can you possibly want revenge for?"

Despite his words, he didn't find it all that hard to imagine, and Malfoy didn't disappoint.

"You've been a thorn in my side ever since you were a twelve-year-old brat, Potter. That was before you revived You-Know-Who, or crossed me in the Department of Mysteries, or tried to kill my son."

It wasn't as if Harry had ever believed in Lucius Malfoy's pretence contrition after the man's return from Azkaban - the remorse, the donations, the demure stepping aside in favour of Draco.

"What do you want?" he repeated, hoping that Malfoy did indeed want something rather than refusing to help Ginny for the sake of vengeance.

A grim smile untouched by humour appeared at the corners of Malfoy's mouth.

"Nothing you cannot give."

Lucius reached for him, slowly enough to allow Harry to sidestep should he so choose. He didn't, although it took effort when Lucius grabbed his shoulders and shoved him back against the wall. He pushed his thigh between Harry's legs, trapping him and pressing his knee against Harry's prick in a way that sent a wave of heat into Harry's cheeks. He forced himself to not go for his wand.

"There are things I will not do," he ground out, aware at once that it would sound pitiful and insecure to Malfoy's ear.

"Are there?" Malfoy breathed against his neck, "What a shame."

"I'm not going to help you return to power, or practice Dark Magic," Harry clarified. He was an Auror. He shouldn't strike any bargains with an ex-Death Eater at all. If anyone found out he'd even gone to see Malfoy with Ginny, he'd be lucky if he was only fired.

"Ah," Malfoy breathed. "What I have in mind is wholly personal." He splayed his hand on Harry's chest, holding him against the wall. "I am not thinking about the Dark Arts, Auror Potter." His voice dropped into a languid drawl. "I am thinking of pain and humiliation. I'm thinking of having the 'Boy who Lived' entirely at my mercy."

Harry resisted the urge to wet his dry lips. "Until Ginny is healed."

A glint sparked in Malfoy's steel-grey eyes. "Until you no longer amuse me, Potter." He raised a hand to forestall Harry's protest. "Think of all there is at stake, Potter – your wife's sanity, your marriage, children to pass on your name to..." Lucius smiled and stroked Harry's chest through the fabric of his robe – anonymous black, not Auror scarlet. Harry felt his nipples tighten. "Though there is, as I said, no guarantee that I'll succeed, I insist on being compensated for my efforts, and for the use of an ancient family heirloom."

Harry's eyes travelled to Ginny, still immobile on the stone slab with her memories swirling gently in the Pendrane at her head. She wouldn't wake until they were restored to her. Somehow, her presence made Malfoy's hands on him even more invasive.

"You'll take an Unbreakable Vow to do everything in your power to cure my wife," he said. "There is no way I'll let you... do whatever you want and have you slithering out of the job afterwards."

"Ah, yes..." Malfoy's smirk broadened into distinct ugliness. "I will swear to employ my Pendrane to the best of my abilities – if _you_ swear to... 'do whatever I want' as you put it so appropriately."

Harry felt a knot closing off his throat, but he nodded. Malfoy removed his hand from his chest and reached up to stroke his cheek.

"How delightfully cooperative you can be, if you want something," Malfoy whispered. "I am quite looking forward to seeing you on your knees before me."

The long fingers caressing his cheek were terribly patronising, terribly possessive. A fine sheen of sweat started to form on Harry's forehead.

"How about a little demonstration to emphasise your sincerity?" Lucius murmured.

Harry clenched his fists and dropped to his knees.

He kept his eyes carefully fixed on Lucius's shiny boots to avoid staring at his groin. Lucius's hand buried itself in his hair, pulling it painfully tight as he pressed Harry's head against the front of his trousers. The buttons dug into his skin, erasing the caress of fine wool and leaving imprints on his already hot cheek.

Lucius twisted his head a little further, and Harry felt the swell of the man's erection under his lips. The wires of his glasses were pressed into the side of face. He forgot how to breathe for a long moment. When he remembered, he wasn't sure whether he smelled the sharp tang of arousal or just imagined it in his nostrils. His stomach coiled.

In a brilliant, vivid flash he imagined himself at Lucius's bare feet, naked, heat flushing through every pore of his body as he nuzzled the man's rising cock. It was what Malfoy was aiming for, there could be no doubt about it. For a second, he wondered if he could do it. Then he thought of Ginny, huddling on the ground with her nails digging into the thin skin of her temples as if to rip out whatever thoughts were soiling her mind, and knew he'd be able to handle whatever Malfoy could throw at him.

Resisting the pull of Malfoy's hand in his hair, he stared up into the man's face.

Malfoy's eyes darkened. He released Harry's hair and backhanded him across the face, so hard Harry almost lost his balance. He swayed, blood welling up on his bottom lip where it had been cut on his teeth. He licked off the drops before they could stain his robe and rose to his feet.

Lucius allowed it, eyeing him with the couched gaze of a predator.

"Yes, I think I am very much looking forward to reaping the fruits of our 'bargain'," he said.

He took hold of Harry's chin, lifting his wand to Harry's split lip. A prickle of heat, and the cut disappeared.

Without another word, Malfoy turned and walked back to the stone slab and dipped the wand into the basin beside Ginny. Green strands started to curl around the tip like candy floss. As Harry moved closer, they swirled and drifted towards her, sinking down around temples and eyes, then vanishing into her skin until the Pendrane held only a pearl-grey substance with no sheen of green.

Ginny's feet twitched; her eyelids fluttered.

Lucius pocketed his wand and stepped close to Harry.

"Bring her back next week, and I'll start the procedure of purifying her memories," he said in a low voice that wasn't soft at all. "As far as you're concerned, Potter, wait for my owl." He touched Harry's lip with a sharp nail, over the healed cut. It stung.

Ginny let out a soft groan; Malfoy's eyes never left Harry's.

"I don't think I'll leave you to wait long," he promised. "We'll take your oaths – and then I'll take you."


End file.
